


Metafiction in Winter Festivals

by valderys



Category: Community
Genre: Best Friends, Character Study, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Pre-Slash, Troy and Abed in the Morning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-20
Updated: 2012-12-20
Packaged: 2017-11-21 17:33:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/600355
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/valderys/pseuds/valderys
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was time for the latest Christmas episode at Greendale College if only the genre could be narrowed down, but with Troy asleep and Abed turning into a gay teddy bear, things were never going to be that easy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Metafiction in Winter Festivals

**Author's Note:**

  * For [eventidespirit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/eventidespirit/gifts).



It was almost time for the Christmas episode, mused Abed, feeling something close to excitement warm in his chest, like eggnog and family and candy canes were meant to make you feel, or so he'd been told. Like Miracle on 34th Street - the 1947 version, although the 1994 version with Richard Attenborough was also highly creditable. Either way Christmas meant that the episode had to be something special or at least something 'quirky', tradition and the season's budget demanded it. He sat on the couch in Group Study Room F and contemplated the genres that hadn't been touched yet, which were pleasantly legion.

Troy was trying to really study, for once, which of course meant that he'd fallen asleep, slowly sliding sideways until his head was resting against Abed's shoulder. So it wasn't as though Abed was able to move, he could feel the puffs of Troy's breath hot against his collarbones and the prickle of his hair through his t-shirt. Abed wasn't sure if he liked it. But he was pretty sure that this social situation required him to be still and quiet, so as not to disturb, although to judge from various loser-team-makes-good movies - his internal rolodex spun from The Mighty Ducks through to Dodgeball, while skipping A League of Their Own as not appropriate to this particular situation - he might also be expected to draw a penis on Troy's forehead. Since Abed did not want to draw a penis on Troy's forehead - particularly since his definition of their friendship was in a fluid position somewhere between 'loyal sidekick' and 'bestie' and he wasn't entirely sure penis-drawing was appropriate - instead he was spending the time productively contemplating genres.

To be fair, it wasn't as though Abed didn't enjoy genre contemplation. If he'd been asked to list his favourite things in all the world, in descending order, then considering the genre for the next episode was tied in fourth place with watching Kickpuncher III: The Final Kickening, and given that he had to forever associate that movie with Lukka's murder of ethnic minorities, however unfair that was to the Kickpuncher franchise, perhaps joint fourth place was overly harsh. Anyway, it meant he enjoyed it. It meant that as he sat there in a claustrophobic community college library unable to move, he could instead pleasantly expand his mind, his personal universe zooming out in an excellent tracking shot that was able to skip from one alternative universe to another with efficient and pyrotechnic ease.

Ah, there was the Christmas blockbuster universe - Abed smiled as he saw them all toiling up and over a familiar scenic New Zealand mountain range. There was Aslan roaring in the distance, and deep underground a balrog turned over in its sleep, wrapped in wings of fire and smoke, while strangling itself with its own whip. Abed frowned as his camera zoomed in a little closer. Did Britta really suit a beard? Did any of them really? Would Geoff prefer to shave his off and then go looking for a designer chain-mail outlet, and would that put the party back to unlucky thirteen?

Abed wasn't at all sure of his casting either. Would Troy be able to carry off the riddle contest? Even if he ended up with the scintillating 'what have I got in my pocket?' he had to start somewhere else - although maybe Abed could buy him Greendale's charity joke book to help with source material. Troy would love the hairy feet, of course, Abed knew he'd thank him for that later, but was he really fitted to the life of a burglar? Troy was a very honest kind of a guy. Abed found the responsibility of it all weighing him down - was he even capable of padding out one blockbuster into three so early in his career? Surely he needed some Bad Taste of his own first. Not to mention the cast was so large, they'd have to cast Chang, Fat Neil, Magnitude, and maybe even Dean Pelton, presumably as a female dwarf (which would answer _that_ question at least) which just made everything weird and unwieldy, and made his brain twitch. No, Abed decided, blockbuster universe could rest easy in its bed for another year or three. It seemed safer.

Troy chose that moment to snuffle a little in his sleep and Abed froze. This was somewhat beyond his experience - was there something else he was supposed to do now? He cocked his head a little, trying to catch sight of more than the slope of Troy's nose. It wasn't often that he wanted others from the study group around, except as background filler, or to round out the ensemble cast, but right now he could do with some real person advice. He didn't watch many movies where people fell asleep on other people, his references were too limited and he didn't know if he could trust them. He needed back up. Troy snuffled again and then, even worse, seemed to... snuggle a little into Abed's side, almost as though Abed was a giant teddy bear. Which thought made Abed relax again, inanimate plush animals he could do, could understand, although he really hoped Troy was dreaming about, say, Lancelot from Labyrinth rather than the 'Fur and Loathing' episode of CSI.

Reassured, he let his mind wander off into the distance again with the boom camera. They could always visit classic Christmas universe, Abed supposed. Everyone had their favourites, of course, but it was a big universe, and if it turned out that Shirley would prefer to go skating with the Haynes sisters from White Christmas, while Bing Crosby crooned from the side of the rink, well, there'd be plenty of room. He tried to think about what Annie might prefer, and ended up with a head full of pink. And frills. Something like a girlier version of Clueless perhaps? He wasn't sure, Annie's mind was a mystery to him, for all that they were roommates these days. To soothe himself, he drifted away into the part of classic Christmas universe that he'd always loved best, where it was forever black and white, and always snowing. Bedford Falls might be unrealistic and sentimental, but it was also the best place in the world. (Well, apart from Planet Abed, but they'd already been there once and besides, stop motion animation made it difficult to do delicate editing work.) A bell rang and Abed smiled because he knew that somewhere, somehow an angel got its wings.

Then he blinked and realised the bell was ringing between classes. That was a whole lot of angels in just one day, multiply it over the whole year and Greendale probably had its own heavenly Christmas choir by now. Which was excellent - that meant there was no need to worry about being sucked back into the Glee Club any more. Or rather... Abed watched in enlightened understanding as Dean Pelton danced past the library window. Ah, every time a bell rang, an angel _costume_ got its wings. With purple sequins apparently. Abed smiled, for that made far more sense.

He realised that he was almost decided. Classics were described as such for a reason, and things only became clichés because they were popular. Abed wasn't about to despise popularity, if a well-known critic ever described him as a sell-out he'd count himself lucky, grin all the way to the bank, before self-funding his own personal movie opus and winning a Palme d'Or. He was actually looking forward to it.

But then Troy shifted in his sleep, sliding down Abed's side and curling his feet up onto the couch. Abed stayed stock still as he waited for the scene to change, or Troy to wake up, or a Christmas pterodactyl to come and carry him away. Any of these scenarios seemed preferable to the reality of the situation, which was Abed sitting uncomfortably bolt upright with Troy's head in his lap. However nothing interrupted to disturb them, which at Greendale seemed the unlikeliest thing of all. Abed lifted his hands and held them hovering in the air, hesitating because he knew what was required of him next, but also aware that his IMDb (internal movie database) only held examples of romantically involved couples indulging in this activity. He tipped his head to one side, contemplating that. Abed loved Troy, of course, and Troy loved Abed, but until now Abed had assumed their relationship to be one approximating to that of a bromance. Still, it would hardly be the first time that he'd misjudged things and he couldn't deny that here Troy was with his head on Abed's bony thighs, his breath hot and damp against his knees.

Far be it for Abed not to run with the moment or the genre, he was better than that - fleetingly he remembered the touch of Annie's lips, the chemical orange paint taste of his Princess Leia in all her glory - but it was a distant memory, tinged with the nostalgia of finally indulging his childhood longings to be Han Solo. This was different somehow, Troy lying in his lap felt more real than Annie ever had. Abed wasn't sure why.

It was easy then, looking down at Troy, and a personal indulgence as well, but Abed couldn't help but consider the obvious universe that the Christmas episode could be set in. Troy would adore it just as much as Abed would, and Annie certainly hadn't seemed to mind being Geneva in the Dreamatorium. They didn't have to use the travesty that was the 1981 Christmas Special either, Abed was sure his directorial skills were better than that, and besides, recently Inspector Spacetime had become a virtual institution at Christmas in the UK. Pierce would love being an evil spinning Yule Log, Britta could be Pippi, or maybe Infinity Knight Lunda, and Jeff would probably... appreciate the qualities of Captain James Haggard. It would be wonderful.

With scarcely another hesitation, Abed brought down his hovering hands and indulged himself in what the situation required, nay indeed, demanded of him. He began to pet Troy's hair. It felt odd under his fingers, springy and a little coarse, but the contrast against his own skin was nice and Troy was warm and smelled of home and pizza and his favourite fleece blanket. Abed realised the corners of his own lips were turning up slightly. Spontaneous smiling was a good sign in budding romantic relationships, he knew.

Troy seemed to like it too. He sighed in his sleep, lips smacking together like a baby's, before stretching and turning over. Abed found he didn't mind the extra physical contact as much as he thought he would, not even when Troy wriggled even closer, putting his arms around Abed's middle and squeezing him tight. He decided that this was a good idea of Troy's, even if Abed _had_ initially guessed at the wrong type of plushie - because it was obvious that Troy didn't think of him as Lancelot or Paddington Bear at all, but rather instead as someone like Aloysius. And that was ok, fantastic even, as Abed didn't mind being part of a different kind of British institution for the Christmas episode, far from it, he was quite fond of period country house drama and Brideshead Revisited was a classic. He was very happy to be a gay teddy bear for Troy.

Whispering, so as not to disturb his new boyfriend, Abed murmured contentedly, "Troy and Abed in the Morning Room!" and carried on petting his hair.


End file.
